The Ghost of the North
by easyl0ve
Summary: The Ghost of the North is the most revered of the Night's Watch, as she is the most feared outside the Wall, but there is more to this Young Bear's story. She is not just a young woman of high honor and skill, but a girl who seeks out the truth of her past, the truth of her ancestors. Follow Ossie Mormont on her search for truth. Future OC/Jon Snow Rated M for mature themes.


**Author's Note: So, I was at a standstill on this thing so I had this idea. Start over. I scrapped the old, and now I'm bringing in the new. It will be about Os still, but I am just going to go about it all differently. So, bear with me (Mormont puns anyone?) and hopefully this journey really knocks your socks off! THANK YOU FOR READING AND STICKING WITH ME!**

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**Chapter 1:**

Seeing can be so hard Beyond the Wall; it might be the wind or the snow, but it is never particularly easy make out all of the shapes on the horizon, even for the most experienced Rangers.

Benjen Stark squinted against the onslaught of cold air that hit his face and shivered slightly. He was on one of his brief scouting missions for the Lord Commander himself. They were always the same: track down the White Ranger, ensure his safety, occasionally deliver a message to him, then report back to the Lord Commander. Initially Benjen was honored to receive a special task from The Old Bear, to be the one entrusted to look after the young ranger who was rumored to be a Mormont bastard, but the appeal had worn away in the last year.

The White Ranger was getting harder and harder to find, and Benjen's eyes were becoming those of an old man.

Near the tree line he saw the faint outlines of two figures: the Ranger and his beast. The two pale figures moved against the snow with a grace not normally befalling a member of the Night's Watch, most of which were now criminals and debtors. Not the White Ranger though, he was no crook.

Benjen moved towards the faint figures, which had shifted direction upon seeing his dark robes against the fresh snow. He slowed, finally feeling the weight of his day-long hike.

The pair closed the distance quickly. Benjen had never truly been able to understand just how this young Ranger managed to move against the elements out there, beyond civilization. It was as though he was watching a specter fly towards him, a Ghost of the North. It made the hair on his neck stand on end, and he shook slightly as he held out the roll of parchment that bore the Lord Commander's seal.

The hand darted up, and grabbed the paper, without hesitation breaking the seal and feasting upon the words inside.

His eyes were unnerving. Benjen could never look at them for more than a moment before looking away. Far too light for a Northerner, and not blue or violet like the stories of the Targaryens. They were grey, and they did not look like they belonged to a young man. They looked almost like those of Maester Aemon, but just a shade darker. Benjen suspected that the White Ranger knew of this effect, because in the years of occasional sightings and being the Lord Commander's messenger those eyes had never once looked directly into his. For this, he was grateful.

A choppy voice came from the smock covering the bottom half of the White Ranger's face. "Says I'm to go back with you, Ranger."

"Does it?" Benjen tried his best to sound happy at this fact, but the best he could choke out of his dry mouth was surprise.

The White Ranger held the paper to him, pointing at the bottom lines.

_"I have a new task for you. Return to Castle Black at once and I will give you the details. _

_-Lord Commander Jeor Mormont_

_Leave the beast behind this time, and do hurry."_

Benjen nodded after he'd finished reading, "Then let's get to it."

His new companion gave a nod and turned to the white snow bear that had stood patiently a few meters away during the whole exchange, never taking it's eyes off of the wilderness around them. The Ranger walked right up to the beast and wrapped his arms around its neck. It was a sight the Stark Ranger never thought he'd see, not even if he lived to a hundred. The bear wasn't aggressive at all, and the Ranger showed no speck of fear as he rested his head on that of the animal.

As soon as the exchange had begun it was done, and the White Ranger was striding past him towards the direction of Castle Black.

Benjen jogged a few paces to catch up, only to have words float to him. "What's your name?"

The mysterious Ranger's white cloak bellowed with a gust of wind as Benjen tried to process what he'd just heard. He'd never heard his voice, not really, and he was shocked to find it to be one of a young boy. He responded after catching his breath from the pace, "Benjen Stark."

"Good to finally learn your name," his pace only seemed to hasten with his words, "I've been calling you The Nervous Ranger this whole time."

Benjen was struggling under the weight of his Night's Watch clothing to keep up with the White Ranger, who wasn't nearly as encumbered as he. The White Ranger had only bleached leather armor, the scarf that covered most of his face, the cowl around his head, and a white cloak like he used to wear when he was young at Winterfell. Not only this, but the Ranger was laughing lightly against the wind. He strained to listen to his words.

"Every time he sends you to check on me your face looks like your scared I'm going to skewer you and make you a meal," the laughter continued," Maybe now you won't anymore, Benjen Stark."

"And – what's – yours – then?" Benjen said between breaths as he jogged behind the figure.

The grey eyes trailed back to look at Benjen, "What have you been calling me?"

"White – Ranger."

His eyes narrowed slightly, and it took a moment before Benjen realized that he must have been smiling under the sash, "Call me Os, but don't bother telling the others."

Benjen grunted in agreement as they continued on through the growing darkness to Castle Black.


End file.
